


Before the Ball

by Nope



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-17
Updated: 2003-01-17
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope
Summary: Draco, drinks and dancing.





	Before the Ball

Wandering out from the Dungeons in skin tight black leather trousers and a green silk top, Draco Malfoy was mildly entertained to discover the Gryffindors nervously hanging around the entrance to the Great Hall, through which he could just make out the music from the Yule Ball. Since he'd already drunk most of the Slytherins under the table or, to be more specific, Snape's desk, he couldn't see what there was to worry about. Except himself of course.

"Hey!" said Draco, graciously acknowledging their presence. "It's Bogsy and Bunce and Bean!"

"That's Neville, Seamus and Dean," snapped Harry, causing Draco to spin around and favour them with a wide smile.

"Wow! Scarface, Mudblood and the Weasel too! Bad things really do come in threes." Draco frowned, looking between them. "'Cept there are six of you. Hey! Maybe you should pair off! Le'see-- Fatarse, you can go with Potty, you and you," -- this to Seamus and Dean --"well, frankly, I have no idea who the hell you are, and--"

"Malfoy," interrupted Hermione, "are you drunk?"

Draco swung back to wave a finger in her general direction. "I certainly am not! I am a Malfoy, and Malfoy's do not get drunk until at least the third bottle. And I'm only my second. So I'm not drunk. Quad erat demonstrandum."

A stray spark from his wand turned a neighbouring suit of armour into a turquoise po, but no-one noticed, since Harry was too busy repeating "Bottle", Dean was asking "Of Wine" and Seamus was chiming in with "Butterbeer?"

"Vodka," said Draco, holding the bottle up. "Want some? Then buy your own. Oh, wait, I forgot, you're all poor and-- Weasel! What in the name of whatever things are in the name of are you wearing?"

Ron looked down at his dress robes, which had been new in the fifth year but had sadly failed to keep up with his continued growth. "There's nothing wrong with--"

"--my sense of taste," agreed Draco. "Can't say much about yours, though. No, I'm sorry but I absolutely refuse to be in the same place as something that ugly. Stand still."

"What--?" began Ron.

"I don't think--" said Hermione at the same time.

"Look out--" tried Harry

Too late; wand suddenly in hand, Draco proclaimed "Vestis virum facit!"

There was a brilliant flash of light which faded to reveal--

"Oh. My. God."

\--Ronald Weasley, his hair cut short and swept back, his skin clear, his robes suddenly a good deal cleaner, blacker, and flatteringly form-fitting, with tasteful gold trim and crimson stitching.

"Bloody hell," said Ron.

Seamus drooled, prompting Dean to slap the back of his head.

"Hah!" crowed Draco. "I could do that in my sleep!" He pointed his wand somewhere vaguely between Neville and about three quarters of the corridor. "Right! Which one of the freak show wants to be cleaned up next?"

"Malfoy--" began Hermione, then yelped as he spun towards her, flicked out his wand, and hiccupped something incomprehensible.

Tiny little lights blinked into existence, tumbled down onto Hermione and vanished like iridescent snow.

"Hmm," said Malfoy, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm? Hmm?! Don't 'hmm' me, you bloody minion of the Dark Lord," shrieked Hermione. "What was that?! You could have--"

There was a sudden twanging sound. Hermione's hair unfrazzled itself, falling backwards down to her waist in vibrant ochre curls. Her robes suddenly contracted into a glitteringly black and almost-but-not-quite-obscenely low cut evening dress.

"Hah," smirked Draco. "Almost passable. Am I a genius or what?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione," said Ron. "You're fucking gorgeous."

"Steady on, Ron," said Harry.

"Bugger this for a lark," said Draco, "I'm going to dance. No doubt there will be riots." He swung a disparaging look across their gaping faces. "I'd tell you to lock up your girlfriends, but you're Giggledorks, so not only don't you have any, you probably all need to be locked up yourselves." And he stalked off into the Great Hall.

Ron looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Ron.

"Okay," said Hermione, "we have to go and have sex now."

"Yes," said Ron, taking her hand, "Yes, we do."

And the two rushed off.

"Oh. My. God," gasped Draco, suddenly reappearing. "What if they breed?! What have I done? What! Have! I! Done?!" He thought about this for a second, shrugged and said "Oh, well. Such is life. Oi, Potty, come dance with me you speccy nitwit; all the attractive people are taken, so I'm going to use fame to hedge my bets till something better comes along."

"Malfoy," began Harry, "I'm not going to--"

"Are you talking?"

"If you really think I'm going to dance with you, you must be--"

"You're talking again. Stop it. You know you're not any good at that, Miracle Boy. Now, come here and dance, and try not to accidentally defeat the Dark Lord again while you're at it." Draco grabbed Harry and yanked into the great hall. The remaining Gryffindors heard "I mean, seriously, talk about obsessive compulsive behaviour, you'd think once would be enough, but oh no--" before the Hall doors finally swung shut, blocking the two from view.

"Harry and Malfoy," said Dean.

"Draco and Potter," agreed Seamus.

"Dancing," said Dean.

"Together," said Seamus, loosening his collar.

"Oh my," said Dean.

"Not half," said Seamus.

"Astronomy Tower?" asked Dean.

"Not half," repeated Seamus.

The two hurried away.

"Um, hello?" said Neville. "Anyone? Hello?"

All alone. He sighed.

"Bollocks."

A sudden thought perked him up. Maybe Professor Sprout could give him some... extra tuition.


End file.
